[ He'd expected it, braced for it, and had thought that there would be a rush of guilt for the failure of having died and let down everyone who counted on him.
But there isn't, not really. He finds that he'd already felt much of that pre-emptively, already grieved it for his time in the prison realm. He'd already failed and been removed from the world, leaving his students and his friends on their own. He wishes he could have done a few last things to wrap up his affairs--maybe he did. Choso said he'd gotten out of the prison realm. Maybe there'd been an opportunity in there to settle a few last important priorities.
He just feels relief, and he's a little surprised to find that the reasoning he'd just given holds true. It's freeing.
He's glad, too, that Choso offers the information about his own death. He'd wanted to know, and had originally asked are we dead, but he hadn't intended to include Choso or to ask him a second time.
Choso summarizes it well with the simple implication surrounding his name, and Gojo's glad that he understands the strange nuances of it. Gojo, just Gojo, is an avatar of his family, an emblem of power in a half dozen ways, and it's a role that lets him feel safe, to keep people at a distance. Gojo Satoru is a demi-god, a weapon, an object of awe, with all the responsibility of the world on his shoulders and no equals. Satoru, just Satoru, is a person. And so few people see him that way.
But that's different here, where he's not the strongest.
He's not the strongest.
(He's still a force to be reckoned with, and he damn well knows it, he's still one of the strongest here both in capability and sheer force of will.)
He can just ... be ... Satoru. ]
Thanks, Choso.
[ He'd thought, too, that he'd ask for how. He'd thought, laughingly to himself, that he'd ask 'did I at least die a cool death?'
But it doesn't even matter.
He's free of all that.
He goes out to take a nap in the shade in the garden. It's nice out there. Sunny. ]
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But there isn't, not really. He finds that he'd already felt much of that pre-emptively, already grieved it for his time in the prison realm. He'd already failed and been removed from the world, leaving his students and his friends on their own. He wishes he could have done a few last things to wrap up his affairs--maybe he did. Choso said he'd gotten out of the prison realm. Maybe there'd been an opportunity in there to settle a few last important priorities.
He just feels relief, and he's a little surprised to find that the reasoning he'd just given holds true. It's freeing.
He's glad, too, that Choso offers the information about his own death. He'd wanted to know, and had originally asked are we dead, but he hadn't intended to include Choso or to ask him a second time.
Choso summarizes it well with the simple implication surrounding his name, and Gojo's glad that he understands the strange nuances of it. Gojo, just Gojo, is an avatar of his family, an emblem of power in a half dozen ways, and it's a role that lets him feel safe, to keep people at a distance. Gojo Satoru is a demi-god, a weapon, an object of awe, with all the responsibility of the world on his shoulders and no equals. Satoru, just Satoru, is a person. And so few people see him that way.
But that's different here, where he's not the strongest.
He's not the strongest.
(He's still a force to be reckoned with, and he damn well knows it, he's still one of the strongest here both in capability and sheer force of will.)
He can just ... be ... Satoru. ]
Thanks, Choso.
[ He'd thought, too, that he'd ask for how. He'd thought, laughingly to himself, that he'd ask 'did I at least die a cool death?'
But it doesn't even matter.
He's free of all that.
He goes out to take a nap in the shade in the garden. It's nice out there. Sunny. ]